"Sure. Maybe he can play rummy."
Steve stepped on the treadle that started the motor in the airlock. The lock rumbled slowly outward.
"Steve—" Myra's voice was a little uncertain. "Maybe the instruments aren't working?"
Steve sighed. "I like the way you think of these things just after the nick of time. If that were so, we'd be frozen corpses by now. The door's open. It's a little muggy, but that's all."
Now they could see the bronze midget more clearly. He looked no more inviting at close range, being wider and heavier than they had imagined, but what he lacked in looks he made up for in affability. He waved all three arms at them once, like a happy windmill.
Steve waved back. "Nice day," he said.
The creature left off waving at them and signalled his ship. It drifted closer soundlessly, until the two ships were touching.
"Look," whispered Myra. "He's all over fuzz. Like a peach."